


Cursed

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles AU's [7]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Dragon Hiccup AU, F/M, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16752286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: The dragon was a curse, passed down through his family for centuries.





	1. Chapter 1

His vision was blurring. Or maybe it only felt that way because the narrowing of his pupils made everything else duller when he forced them to widen again. He gasped for breath, shaking his head in an attempt to shake off the change. 

“Come on, Hiccup, don’t fight it!” Dagur’s voice was jubilant, his smile wide and deranged. The axe in his hands sang a pitch higher than human ears could hear, but it irritated the beast inside. That damned weapon– he should have warned Astrid or her parents when he had the chance. The new Viking exhibit had been the pride of their museum, and now it would destroy everything. 

“Why are you doing this?” he bit out. His tongue was trying to fork in his mouth. Hiccup crushed it to the back of his teeth and willed it to return to its normal shape. 

Dagur laughed, the sound mad. It clattered off the marble floors and high ceiling. “Why should you hide? Your powers aren’t a  _curse_ , Hiccup! They’re a  _gift_!” His hands swung to his sides, gesturing widely at the display behind him. He used the axe to point at the depictions of Viking battles, the carefully polished helmet, the centuries-old armor. “This is your legacy! Don’t be ashamed of it!”

The flare of irritation he felt in his chest was too strong of an emotion. Black splotches began to itch his arms and hands as his skin hardened and flaked into tough scales. He could feel them crawling up his back beneath his t-shirt. “Stop it, Dagur!” he shouted, fingers balling into fists. “I don’t want to hurt anyone!”

All his life… All the hiding and distancing himself from others. His family’s curse– the dragons’ revenge for all the killing his ancestors had done– he’d spent his life trying to protect everyone around him. He’d controlled the dragon that lived in his head, raging and trying to break free at the slightest display of conflict. Now that was all about to come undone.

At least Astrid and her friends were gone. All the self-pity he’d had for missing the senior trip dissolved. She–  _they_  would be safe in New York.

Her parents’ museum, though– he had to get out of there. Had to keep it in one piece. Hiccup’s nails were sharpening, elongating into talons. They drew blood as they pierced the inside of his clenched fists, but he didn’t loosen the reins on his control. The ringing coming from the axe was getting louder, turning into an echo in his ears. 

“Just let it  _be_!” Dagur crowed. He swung the weapon as if to slash down Hiccup’s resolve. It whistled with an age-old whisper of slicing air. “Embrace it!”

“No!” he growled and glared. Steam billowed from his mouth, and when he tried to gnash his teeth, he discovered they’d grown into fangs.

And then a sound made their attention jerk towards the entrance. Quick footfalls followed by the abrupt squeak of rubber soles as someone pulled up short. Hiccup’s head whipped up just in time for him to see Astrid catch herself on the doorway behind Dagur. 

“Hiccup!” she panted, out of breath. Her ponytail was coming loose. Strands of blonde curled around her flushed cheeks. Alarmed and confused, she looked at Dagur’s wicked grin, the growing gleam in his eyes as he realized who she was. Then her gaze fell on the scales climbing up Hiccup’s forearms, his hunched and trembling shoulders, the eerie glow he knew she could see in his irises. Her expression fell into one of fearful disbelief. “Hiccup?”

“Get out of here!” he called back to her, snatching his arms close to his body and trying to scratch away the scales. They fell away beneath his scraping, but new ones grew back just as quickly to replace them. 

Astrid took a step back, but she didn’t turn and run. She kept her eyes on him. “What’s going on? What are you?”

Dagur threw his head back and chuckled. “Oh, he hasn’t told you about his little  _pet_?” he asked, glee bright in his tone. 

The girl cut her gaze to him. “Toothless?” she blurted, and Hiccup would have laughed if he didn’t feel like crying.

That didn’t stop Dagur, though. His amusement was obvious, and he started to climb the steps toward her. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll get you an introduction. Up close and  _personal._ ” And then with that, he reached out and yanked Astrid by the arm. Jerking her to his chest, he brought the blade of the axe to her throat and faced her towards the rest of the room. 

She shrieked with fear and indignation, her hands clamping down on his wrist. The noise was too much for Hiccup– the sight of Dagur’s fingers digging into her upper arm, the gleam of the metal pressing against her skin– his rage boiled over. Flames licked over his lips. He slammed his eyes shut. His spine twisted and cracked, making him arch as his tailbone began to protrude. His shoulder blades creaked, and Hiccup roared with abrupt pain as the bone stretched and grew. 

“Hiccup!” Astrid screamed, struggling against Dagur’s grip. “What are you doing to him?!”

“C'mon, Hiccup! Let it happen! Show her your true self!" 

There was fire in his head and his throat and his chest. It seared his skin, burning the soft flesh into hard scales. Hiccup shook– flinched– writhed– trying to escape the pain of resisting the dragon. It would be so easy to let those flames devour him, let him slip away from reason and submit to the burn. The axe in Dagur’s hand was deafening now, a chorus of high-pitched peals and metallic ringing. It wanted him to give in too. It wanted blood. 

The sound of ripping fabric distantly registered in his ears. "Let her go!” Hiccup snarled, peeking one slitted eye open. Astrid looked terrified, her jaw dropped low and her blue eyes wide. 

“I think I’ll hold onto her,” Dagur laughed in reply. “You might find yourself wanting a little  _snack_.”

Another slam of rage made him fall to his hands and knees. His talons scraped against the marble, likely leaving claw marks in the fine finish. Chest heaving, he felt a reptilian roar rip from his throat. 

And then there was a different noise. The sound of flesh cracking against bone and Dagur’s sharp cry. Hiccup squinted up, breathing hard and raspy as he watched his enemy’s body hit the ground with a scattered thump. The axe clattered down the stairs, skittering to a stop halfway down. 

Astrid straightened, expression furious. In a distant memory, another life, he would have laughed. He’d thought she’d been joking about her black belt in judo. She gave Dagur’s still form a kick to the ribs for good measure. Then her gaze turned back to him. 

“Hiccup,” she whispered, but if it weren’t for the dragon’s sensitive hearing, he wouldn’t make it out over the scream of the cursed axe. She sprinted down the stairs, nearly tripping near the bottom. When she got close, she didn’t slow or hang back– she threw herself to her knees in front of him. “Hiccup! What’s happening?”

He shook his head, trying to pull back, but he could feel his tail tearing past the waistband of his jeans. His black, scaly wings fluttered and flexed, trying to stretch out to their full length. “Get– get away,” he commanded, sharp teeth snapping together as he spoke. His senses were getting sharper every second. He could smell the blood racing through her veins.

“No,” she refused, scooting closer. “Let me help. What do you need?” She reached out a hesitant hand to touch his face, but before she could brush her fingertips across his scaly skin, he grabbed her by the arms. Her pained yelp reminded him of the claws at the end of his own fingers. His nose detected fresh blood in the air now.

“I need you to  _go_ ,” he hissed, trembling violently. His wings flapped hard, almost another entity. He could sense the way they longed to take to the sky. “Please.”

She shook her head, her gaze determined but helpless. Then before he could stop her, she leaned forward, into the points of his talons. Wincing, Astrid pressed her lips to his jaw. The first of his face she could reach. Then his cheek. The bridge of his nose. 

The dragon reared, shocked and confused. Hiccup groaned as it growled lowly, warily. 

Her lips were cool against his blistering skin. He sat frozen while she brushed kisses against his chin and mouth with careless aim. Whispering his name like a prayer, she slowly lifted her hands to his arms, despite the claws in her flesh. Her fingertips slid along the inside of his wrists. Hiccup was afraid that fire would jump to his tongue and burn her, but only steam escaped in desperate pants.

The change was slow. It took several minutes of her talking softly, nuzzling her forehead against his neck and kissing his jaw. After a while, though, the screech of the axe dulled to a tolerable volume. He was able to release the injurious hold on her. Astrid didn’t move away once she was free, though– she lifted her hands to press his cheeks between her palms. Her mouth hovered over his until he could feel his tail retracting again. The swish of it as it whipped from side to side made her jump.

“Let me help. What can I do? What do you need?” She murmured that over and over again, caressing thumbs chasing the scales away from beneath his eyes.

“The axe,” he eventually choked out. The dragon was retreating carefully, soothed by the balm of her skin against his own. It wanted to give him back control, but the song of the cursed weapon still made its head whip back and forth with irritation. “You have to destroy it.”

She glanced around, searching for the item in question. When she found it, she nodded. “Okay,” she breathed, shifting to move away, but he covered her hand with one of her own, holding it against his cheek. 

“You can’t touch it,” he warned her. His tongue flicked reflexively against his fangs at certain consonants, Hiccup could hear how harsh and reptilian it sounded to his own ears. “It’ll drive you crazy too.”

“I got it,” she mumbled. Astrid gently pulled away, standing and shrugging out of her jacket. 

He slumped forward onto his elbows and watched her as she slowly approached the axe. He was exhausted, but shivers and shudders of delirium still wracked him. He couldn’t afford to relax.

When Astrid wrapped her hands in her jacket and cautiously picked up the heavy weapon, Hiccup heard the metallic ringing turn discordant. It made the dragon suddenly surge back to life, and he twisted against the sudden renewal. She tilted the head of the axe up and then tried stomping against the handle. It screeched. Hiccup cried out in pain.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked him frantically, hunched over the cursed object. She stopped what she was doing the moment she heard his anguished moan.

“Break it!” he gasped. 

Astrid watched him uneasily. Doubt and concern flashed in her eyes, and she shifted her weight from one foot to another. Then she whacked the axe-head against the floor. 

Hiccup screamed. She hesitated. 

“Do it!” he shouted. His wings beat madly, sending bursts of wind swirling around the room. “Please.”

Her expression set stonily. Shifting her hands inside her jacket, she slid her grip higher and lifted the axe with a grunt. Guilt shredded at his insides as she cringed and whimpered. Blood darkened the sleeves of her blouse.

Astrid looked back at him. Her forehead crumpled with sorrow. Then after taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned on her heel and slammed the flat of the axe against the marble column behind her. He heard splintering wood and cracking stone. The ancient, evil weapon made one last deafening screech before the axe-head was sent clattering to the ground.

Hiccup felt something in his chest snap. He arched, his eyes going wide as the world fell silent. Then his vision went dark. He fell forward.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Prologue)**

It sang. Sang like the pure peal of a bell at Christmas, or the final note of a classical opera. It was the sort of song that sent chills running down his spine, made him chew at the corner of his mouth as he stared at the axe. In the reflection of the glass case, he could see his reflection– hungry, fascinated, intoxicated. The beast inside purred low and seductive.

Hiccup was so out of it, he didn’t hear her approaching until she was standing right next to him. 

“You’re back,” Astrid noted, drawing him out of the hypnotic state he’d been trapped in. “I didn’t realize you were such a history buff.”

“Oh. Heh. Yeah.” Stepping so that the gleam of the polished axe-head wouldn’t draw his eye again, he rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a sheepish grin. “Well– no. I mean– my family’s descended from Vikings. I like the exhibit." 

She was in her work uniform today, and even in a pair of shapeless khakis and a navy polo, she managed to make him a little tongue-tied. Her name tag was a little crooked, and he had to resist the urge to straighten it. 

"Yeah? I didn’t know.” The smile she flashed him made his knees a little weak. “I think my family’s from Northern Europe somewhere. I’m not sure exactly. You’d think the owners of a history museum would know stuff like that, but my parents were never big on genealogy.”

“There’s no running from it in my family.” The corner of his mouth tugged to the side, sort of like smirk, but there was way too much that he couldn’t say for it to be sincere. 

Something suddenly blared, high pitched and trilling, and for a minute, Hiccup thought it was the axe. His head whipped to the side to look with wide eyes, but then Astrid pulled a ringing cell phone out of her back pocket. After a glance around the room– presumably searching for her supervisors– she brought the phone to her ear. 

“Hey. I’m at work, what do you need?”

Hiccup hesitated, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. Should he leave? Was their conversation done? Or should he wait for her to finish her phone call? 

Astrid slid her hand into her pocket as she spoke. “No, I’ll walk. No, it’s okay.” She swayed onto the balls of her feet and then back down. “No! And it wasn’t a cat!”

The hair on the back of Hiccup’s neck stood straight. 

“Whatever. I know what I saw. Thanks for the offer, though. Talk to you later.” After a minute, she hung up and shoved the phone back into her pocket. Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Ruffnut. She was checking to see if I wanted a ride home.”

“Oh.” He kicked himself internally. Surely he could come up with something better than  _oh._  But the ringing of the mystic weapon behind him and the pretty blue eyes in front of him were scrambling his brain. “C-cat?”

Astrid blinked, as if just realizing that he could hear her conversation. Then her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. She ruffled her bangs with her fingers and dropped her gaze to the floor. “It’s nothing. Ruff was making fun of me ‘cause I got a little freaked out last time I walked home alone.”

Hiccup tried to disguise the choking noise that stuck in his throat. 

She  _had_  seen him. 

“What freaked you out?” he asked, raking a hand through his hair. Did his voice sound a little too high-pitched, or was that just his paranoia?

Her eyes flicked to the ceiling, but the eye roll seemed more self-deprecating than annoyed. “I– It’s dumb, but the last few times I’ve walked home, I’ve felt like I was being followed.” She shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “I wasn’t that worried about it. But then the other night, I heard some noises, and I swear on my life I saw something watching me from the bushes.”

“You… you sure it wasn’t just a cat like Ruff said?” He could feel the blood draining from his face. She saw him. He’d been hoping that it was too dark for her to see. 

Her mouth twisted with annoyance, and the dimple in her cheek flashed. “No. It was way too big to be a cat.” Folding her arms over her chest, she cut her gaze away. He’d offended her by agreeing with Ruffnut, he could tell. “And after it disappeared, I could’ve sworn I saw…  _wings_.”

Hiccup recalled the night with renewed dread. He’d only been following her to make sure she got home safely. The museum was in a good part of town, but the route to her house crossed through more than one poorly lit street. When she’d turned and looked directly into the thick patch of trees where he’d taken cover, his claws had dug deep into the moist earth. He’d narrowed his gaze at her, and the beast growled with interest.

“I know it sounds crazy.” She twisted to face the display of Viking weaponry. “But I saw its eyes– all green and glowing. It was  _weird_.”

“That doesn’t sound crazy,” he said, a little breathless. 

 _He'd_ only been trying to make sure she was safe. But that didn’t mean the beast didn’t have other ideas. It saw the creamy skin between the hem of her skirt and the tops of her boots. It heard her accelerating pulse, smelled the adrenaline in her blood. Animal instinct was a thousand times harder to resist in an animal form. 

“Yeah, it does.” She shrugged, looking utterly bashful as she stared at the exhibit. “I’m pretending– gods, why am I telling you this?– I’m pretending it’s like a gargoyle or a dragon. And it’s watching out for me. Like a guardian angel.”

Hiccup’s heart pounded in his chest, slamming against his ribcage like it was trying to break free. His skin prickled the way it did when there was danger, and his fingers wiggled restlessly at his side. He clamped them around the strap of his backpack. 

“A dragon,” he laughed weakly. 

Her eyes suddenly slid to him, and he knew he was acting too suspicious. She squinted, scrutinizing him. 

“I hope it is,” he told her, trying to cover himself. Hiccup hoped to redirect the conversation. “You really shouldn’t be walking home alone at night.”

 _And you shouldn’t be stalking pretty girls at night_. His conscious jabbed him none too gently. 

He was usually so much more careful. He never changed regularly– for  _any_ reason. He never flew unless it was so late he’d only have an audience of drunks and UFO enthusiasts. And he never  _ever_ stalked through town in his dragon form. Ever since that thing, that axe had come to town, he’d been incapable of drowning it out. It made him impulsive and careless.

Astrid snorted. She reached up and tightened her blonde ponytail. “I’ve got mace in my bag,” she assured him. “Not to mention I can kick ass if I need to. I’m more than okay walking a few blocks by myself.”

He adjusted his backpack nervously. “Yeah? Well, I’d be more than happy to escort you home if you ever need it. Even if your mace might be a more effective bodyguard than me." 

She gave him a wink. "Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe. I’ve got a black belt.”

And suddenly the fluttering of his heart was entirely due to the mischief in her flirtatious gaze. He felt his lips twitching, curling into an unfamiliar smile. He wished he could tell her then– I’m entirely capable of taking care of myself.  _And_ you– but talking about his curse was something he couldn’t even allow to tempt him. 

“Well, if you need someone to protect on the way home–” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I work at the garage down the street. I can be here in five minutes.”

Her laugh bubbled prettily. Somehow he still couldn’t believe they’d managed to strike a tenuous bond. For seventeen years he’d watched from a distance, and for the first time in his life, he was actually making friends. Ones he couldn’t keep his eyes off of. “Thanks, Hiccup. If my guardian dragon tries to take a bite out of me, I’ll give you a call.”

And just like that, his smile fell.


End file.
